


The thing about madness

by Zephyroh



Category: HoloEN, Hololive, HololiveEN, Virtual Streamer Animated Characters, holoMyth
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Tentacle Sex, i guess, if you squint hard enough there's the semblance of a plot, no beta: we die like yagoo's dream, posting this then heading to horny jail, tagging just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:20:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28773741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephyroh/pseuds/Zephyroh
Summary: Amelia Watson had long thought and dwelled over madness. She had seen it in a thousand people, in a thousand timeline; she had witnessed the ravages done to great minds, the ruins of relationship it had left in it’s wake, the shadows of the people left behind.Yet, Amelia Watson was nothing if not a fool.And so she had decided to barter her own sanity to save another. Because, in all her times, while she had not found an answer as to what the best way to fight madness is, she had chosen one: human connection.
Relationships: Ninomae Ina'nis/Watson Amelia (hololive)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 164





	The thing about madness

**The thing about madness**

The thing about madness is that it slowly sets in, so imperceptible, so subtly, that it is not noticed at first. It’s in one simple hesitation before doing or saying something that is a habit. It’s in the double glances taken at the corner of one’s eye when a shadow appears to lurk longer than they ought to. It’s the light within one’s eye – the window of the soul – that changes aura. It’s in the distance between two people once connected. It’s the lingering of a dangerous thought, just long enough to be considered. It’s in the pause before a dismissing laugh. It’s in ice where once there was warmth. 

The thing about madness is that, if you see it for long enough, in enough people, one starts to recognize the signs too easily. It’s the pit at the bottom of one’s stomach that burrows deeper and deeper as time passes. It’s in the dread creeping through one’s bone, like snake looking for a meal; slow, but confident and unweaving. It’s in the pain of a heartbeat as if surrounded by shards of broken glass, just grazing it enough to hurt, but not finish the job. It’s feeling like an open wound as one sees a loved being becoming someone – something – else altogether, a stranger to one’s heart, slipping away with nothing to be done.

The thing about madness is the longer you think about it, the more holds it has on you. Like a game of go, when you’re not sure if you’re surrounding your enemy, or if it surrounds you. One who dwells in madness becomes so intertwined with it, it’s difficult to see where one ends and the other becomes. Because the thing about madness is, if you cannot trust yourself anymore, who _can_ you trust?

Amelia Watson had long thought and dwelled over madness. She had seen it in a thousand people, in a thousand timeline; she had witnessed the ravages done to great minds, the ruins of relationship it had left in it’s wake, the shadows of the people left behind.

Yet, Amelia Watson was nothing if not a fool.

And so she had decided to barter her own sanity to save another. Because, in all her times, while she had not found an answer as to what the best way to fight madness is, she had chosen one: human connection.

* * *

She pulled her coat tighter around her form, trying in vain to prevent the cold breeze sneaking under her layers of clothing, freezing her to bones. Her shoes were definitely ruined, and more a crust of mud than anything else. The raincoat, offered with pity by the boatman who brought her here, was soaked and provided little help again the rain pouring down like a waterfall. Her soggy hat was mushed against her forehead, hanging askew miserably. Her teeth were clattering as uncontrollable shivers coursed through her body. She hated this fucking place.

She squinted though the curtain of falling water and heavy fog, trying to get her bearings or to find any landmarks that would help her situate herself. The island seemed to change every time – as if it knew what she was trying to do. As if it remembered all the times she tried. All the times she failed.

The dark clouds were sitting menacingly in the sky, an occasional bark of thunder in the distance echoed through the empty lands and the wind kept blowing in all directions. Everything about this place was a warning that Amelia deliberately ignored.

She jumped off the rocks she was positioned on, aiming for a particular outcrop in the mountain towering in the distance like a titan. The rock looked sharp as teeth, and the combination of the rain and the setting sun made it look like blood was dripping all over the mountainside. At least, Amelia preferred to think of as optical illusion.

Bowing her head down, shutting off her shivers and her thoughts, she made her way to her destination. As she approached, she looked for an opening, any kind of entrance to a cave of sorts. There was always an entrance. Always a cave. Always a shrine.

After the better part of an hour, she finally found what she was looking for. Half hidden behind branches of a tree, an opening in the stone, marked by strange and ominous symbols. They changed every time, and she never managed to figure out their meaning, but she knew enough to know that it was probably not a good omen. Pushing her fear at the back of her mind, as she often did before doing something stupid, she stepped in.

The descent was harsh and unforgiving, as it always was. The cave was a weaving system of tunnels designed to make you lose all sense of direction, alternating between wide open spaces filled with undistinguishable noises of water and animals and narrow passages squeezing Amelia on all sides to the point where her coat was torn apart in all places, and a myriad bruise covered her arms and legs. Nevertheless, she persisted.

Amelia didn’t bother to try and keep track of her progress; she knew it was pointless. The only way to reach her destination was to lose herself to the island, and invite the madness in. Now, the sounds of scurrying rats, the bat’s wings flapping over her head, and the constant hum that the mountain itself seemed to emit did not scare her anymore.

Eventually – gods know how long since she first entered the cave – another sound made itself heard, cutting through the background noises Amelia had gotten used to. Ominous chanting, sang in unison, accompanied by a beat that resonated and vibrated through the cavern’s walls. She was getting closer.

Soon, it was all she could hear – the beating of drums mixed with her own heartbeat in her ears, and the chanting vibrated through her ribcage. The ceremony was already well underway. She had gotten sloppy and now it was too late to prevent it. However, it was not her goal. Steeling her mind, she pushed the guilt down, and continued.

When she emerged from the tunnels, her heart skipped a beat and her stomach turned. She stood in a little outcropping, granted her an overview to the ceremonial chamber down below. Four gigantic pillars emerged from the ground, carved in intricate depiction of eldritch horrors and human suffering. Amelia forced herself to look away from the distorted faces of crying humans and gore plastered against the rock. Instead, she focused her gaze at the center of the chamber. In the middle of a circle carved into the floor stood a simple shrine covered in a cloth, dripping with blood as a mutilated body laid over it. The face was covered by a piece of fabric, but judging from the morphology and size, Amelia’s analytical mind couldn’t help but guess it was probably a young female between age 20 to 30. The guilt tore at her stomach. Maybe if she had been a little faster…

Branching out from the shrine, nine gutters now filled with crimson blood joined the outside circle surrounding the scene, which met at the front to form a pool of dark liquid. In that pool stood a figure – tall and slim, adorning a ceremonial dress halfway between a kimono and a cultist robe, dark hair spilling out of the hood like flowing ink. In front of the figure, a dozen silhouettes, indistinguishable one from another as they all wore simple black hooded robes, were kneeling, forehead pressed to the floor and chanting incessantly.

At each corner of the room stood brass lanterns lit with a green fire that illuminated the scene with a sick emerald hue. The light flickered an instant, and bubbles formed in the blood at the figure’s feet.

Unable to bear it any longer, Amelia closed her eyes as she knew what was coming. She had seen it too many times and couldn’t stomach it anymore. Still, the sound only was enough to make her sick. She knew that the hood in front of the figure’s face would fall back as she stood tall, revealing terrifying dark purple orbs where the fire of madness burnt wild. She knew that eight tentacles would emerge from her back, coming for each of the cultist throat. She knew their skin would be torn apart, their organs would be crushed, and their body thrown aside in a pile of dismembered limbs. She knew that the figure would smile, satisfied, as her power grew. And all Amelia could do was stand there and hear it happen.

The chanting stopped. Amelia clasped her hands against her ears, gripping her hair in an attempt to muffle the sounds of horrors to come. Still, as many times as she had borne witness to this exact scene, she was still surprised at the swiftness of it. Merely a minute later, the cavern was absolutely silent.

Amelia gritted her teeth, ready to ignore the abhorrent vision that would greet her when she’s opened her eyes. Instead, she locked her gaze to the figure at the center of the room. She took her time descending the stairs, not bothering to hide her presence.

She stood a few feet before the figure who regarded her with blank expression, a frozen smile, and just an inch of curiosity.

As Amelia struggled to control her breathing, composing herself in the picture perfect of relaxation, she finally spoke, maintaining her tone as even as she could, and addressed Ina.

No, not Ina. The Priestess.

She was no longer Ina, in this moment. Amelia refused to think otherwise.

"Nice little party you’ve got going there. Not quite fond of the finale though.", she joked, putting casually her hands in her skirt pockets.

The Priestess didn’t appear fazed by the detective presence. She tilted her head slightly to the side, one flap at the top of her head twitching. ‘’Could it be that we have a voluntary sacrifice? Usually, it takes a lot more effort on my end to arrive at this point.’’

It was the tone, more than the words, that pierced through Amelia’s heart. It was Ina’s voice, in tonality, but void of any warmth or softness that made Ina herself. This, in addition to the lack of emotion on her beloved face, was what hurt Amelia the most.

"No offense, but I like to keep my organs where they are.", Amelia answered, refusing to let her mask of indifference fall. "Now if you don’t mind, I’m just here to get back something that is dear to me."

The Priestess blinked, paused for a moment before responding. "Nothing here belongs to you. All that lives, and all that dies here is the will of the Ancient Ones. And I’m afraid, that includes you now."

Amelia passed her right hand through her hair, letting out a humorless laugh as her left hand grazed the side of her thigh, lifting the side of her skirt. As her finger brushed against the glass syringe held against her skin by leather straps, she sighed exaggeratedly.

"Well then, it appears we're an impasse." She paused. " _Ina’nis_."

When the tentacle hit her square in the chest, even though she was already bracing herself for impact, Amelia was still caught off guard by the sheer force of it. She doubled over, holding her stomach with one arm, groaning in pain. As tear stinged her eyes, she focused on her task. With expert, agile fingers, she unlocked the straps holding the syringe, sliding it into her sleeve. She looked backed up at the Priestess whose’ neutral expression had been replaced with ire. Amelia chuckled mockingly. "Your master doesn’t like that, does It. _Her_ name."

"You will do well to hold your tongue before I rip it out of your mouth." The Priestess voice sounded different, as if it was under layered with hundreds of other voices speaking all at once.

Amelia ignored her threat and kept going. "Names hold power. _She_ taught me that, you know. And if It is scared of her name, that means that she can still come back to me. Isn’t that right, In-"

This time, the tentacle aimed right at her lips, circling her head and squeezing her mouth shut. Amelia’s struggled for air, gripping the tendril with one hand. With the other, she prepared the syringe. The eldritch limb dragged her toward the Priestess who had just stepped out of the pool. The fabric of her dress left stains of dark blood trailing behind her as she approached Amelia.

The detective could tell that It had not completely secured Its hold over her. She could see it in the way her eyes kept on clouding momentarily before regaining their focus – the sign that the voices were speaking to her. They had not fused completely yet. Amelia still had hope.

The Priestess made her way to Amelia, slow and menacing. For a split second, the detective saw confusion in her eyes, doubt, even. "Who are y–". She abruptly stopped, bringing her hands to her head while she groaned in pain, as if suddenly overtaken by a violent migraine. The tentacle around Amelia’s mouth loosened, and she took the opportunity to spring into action. She planted the syringe on the side of the distracted Priestess’ neck, wasting no time in injection the concoction.

The effects were… not immediate to Amelia’s disappointment. Another swing of an erratic tentacle sent her flying to the side, and the Priestess cried out in rage, clasping one hand to her neck. "What was that?". This time, the multiple voices clearly overlayer her voice. She wasn’t speaking; It was speaking through her.

Amelia rolled to the side, hugging her bruised side where she landed on the floor, stumbling as she got back on her feet. "I’m gonna be honest, I’m not even sure anymore at this point. But hey, point for trying right." Her casual, joking tone was masking the waves of grief gripping at her throat. She had failed. Again. Still, something in heart was still alive. As she plunged her eyes into the Priestess confused gaze, she searched desperately for any trace of Ina left inside. She couldn’t give up. Not when she had come so far, so many times before.

The Priestess stood tall, gathering her composure, looking down at the crouched down human beneath her. One tendril shot at the detective leg, pulling her forward and making her lose her balance, as another went for her neck, holding her chin up. "Such a strange and bothersome human you are." The voices rang out, almost pensively. "What a shame this is where you meet your end. But We have much to do, and little time to waste on you." The dark intonation held no secret to the meaning behind the words. Any sensible person would have probably crumbled down before the eldritch being holding her life in Its unforgiving grasp.

Yet, Amelia Watson was nothing if not a fool.

"And here I thought the fun was just starting.", she mocked licking the trail of blood at the corner of her mouth with a swift flick of the tongue.

The tentacle tightened around her throat in a slick, sickening motion and she gasped for air. Instinctively, she gripped the appendage in a vain attempt to loosen its hold. Instead, it lifted her higher off the ground. Her feet were now dangling in the air. Nevertheless, she never broke eye contact.

"Joke’s on you, I’m into that kind of stuff.", she managed out with a smirk. Blood pooled in her mouth filling her senses with a metallic taste.

A flash of irritation passed through the Priestess eye. Abruptly, the tentacle around her swished back throwing her against the wall behind. Her body hit the mossy stone with a deafening ‘thump’ and something in her back cracked. A bolt of pain jolted through her body as the wind was knocked out of her, and she was left on her knees, gasping desperately for air. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the Priestess move towards her with slow, calculated steps, like a predator assessing its prey. When she failed to stand, Amelia settled on staying on her knees, straightening her back to face the otherworldly creature that was once her friend – her heart. Even in this state, even after what she’s done, Amelia still marveled at her beauty. The green light of the cavern was hitting her from the back, giving her a strange, angelic halo, contradicted by the icy stare on her face.

The Priestess stopped merely inches before her, looking down on the pitiful form of Amelia Watson with disdain in her eyes, and still a fire of irritation burning behind it. _Good_. If the Thing was irritated, that meant Amelia could still reach Ina.

A gloved hand grabbed her by the jaw, pulling her head skyward as the Priestess bend down.

"What a miserable sight you make. And here I thought you’d put up a challenge for your friend." The hundred voices spoke in unison, and Amelia wondered for an instant if those were the voices of the previous High Priest and Priestess. As she shook the thought out of her head, she promised herself that she would never let Ina’s voice join them.

Weakly, Amelia raised one hand, putting it almost gently on the Priestess wrist. That action granted her a disinterested look, but no reaction. Amelia panted heavily, the fire in her lungs still burning at each gasp. She let out a hollow laugh.

"You know I won’t give up on you, right?" Her voice was hoarse and raspy. The fingers around her jaws squeezed, digging into the skin.

The Priestess pulled her even closer, not loosening her grip on Amelia’s face.

"That girl is gone now. She’s Ours."

Amelia merely let out a shaky laugh. She meant it to sound smugger, but the state of her body at the present moment was not allowing it.

She raised her other hand to the Priestess’ cheek who was now close enough. Amelia tilted her head and a soft smile blossomed on her bloody lips.

"And yet I am still breathing, aren’t I?"

The Priestess gritted her teeth, failing to repress an annoyed groan which made Amelia smile even wider. With one arm, she lifted the detective to press her harder against the wall, and Amelia’s back once again met with the wall of the cavern now stained with her blood.

"You can’t do it, can you? Kill me?", the detective let out with a manic laugh. "Because deep down she’s still there, and she won’t let you." A tentacle suddenly slapped her in a purple blur. Droplets of blood landed on the Priestess pearl white skin. Amelia laughed harder as she started to feel feverish.

Each squeeze on her throat, each hit of a tentacle was another victory for Amelia and she reveled at the fire of hatred in the Priestess eye. She was not winning per se, but she was not losing either. They were standing in an impasse, and Amelia, as it was often the case, had no plan of action but she had sheer willpower. She had jumped with both feet and no fail safe, and she had no idea how she would get out of it, but in this moment, the mere sight of the Ancient Ones’ Priestess filled with rage was enough to satisfy her.

Eventually, the tentacles stopped and wrapped around her body, locking her in a paralyzing hold.

The blood loss, the lack of oxygen, the impossible position she found herself in, it was all too much for the time traveler. She felt delirious. She felt like she was in a dream, or a nightmare. She let herself get lost in dark purple eyes.

"Maybe We cannot kill you. But maybe we can break you. You cannot save _her_ if you lose the will to."

Amelia closed her eyes, letting her head fall against the rock. The voices were oddly soothing now, in a sickly-sweet way. She allowed herself to get distracted by the feel of leather against her skin, digits pressing into her flesh. An all too familiar feeling… A flash passed before her eyes, a memory; a similar situation, but fill with tenderness, dark purple eyes burning with passion, warmth, and softness.

She opened her eyes to cold, implacable irises. And it was the sense of loss, not fear, that digged into her stomach. She had remembered why she had come here. She would not give up.

Swiftly, she grabbed the back of the Priestess neck and crashed their lips together. She reveled in the surprised gasp of her opponent and took the opportunity to bite down on her lip, drawing blood. Yet, when she pulled back, there was no retaliation, just conflict in the Priestess’s eye, and something growing hotter in her own lower stomach.

"It made your mind made you forget me, but your body didn’t." Amelia whispered with the little air she had left in her lungs.

The Priestess head twitched to the side, as if she was trying to shake something out of it. When she spoke again, it was the single sound of her voice – Ina’s voice – though lacking the soft velvety texture that made Ina’s voice like home to Amelia.

"Why can’t I remember you?", she asked in a whisper. Her tone was distant, pensive. Her fingers on the detective’s throat remained steel, unmoving. Amelia’s heartbeat accelerated, banging against her ribcage like a wild animal trying to get out of a cage.

Amelia chuckled, gathering all her smugness into a smirk. "Maybe They, or It, or whatever the fuck… Maybe It fears me." She let her hand slide along the Priestess’ throat, letting her palm rest against her collarbone, ever so slightly grazing the bit of skin that showed under the ceremony dress. She felt the shiver that passed through the Priestess’s body.

The Priestess furrowed her brow as she responded with a voice that sounded less confident that she probably had intended. "Impossible. You’re just a human. You’re nothing."

The grip against Amelia’s throat loosened, by a mere half an inch.

The time traveler raised her hand and made contact with the Priestess’ cheek, bracing herself for a retaliation that did not come.

She leaned in.

The Priestess let her.

The bruising kiss that followed was heavy with all the emotions Amelia had barricaded in her heart when she first stepped on this gods forsaken island. It was desperation. It was rage. It was passion. It was resentment. I was fear. It was dedication. It was love.

The Priestess remained still as a statue as Amelia gripped her dress, eventually opening her mouth to let the detective’s tongue in. She moaned, and the sound alone send electric tendrils through Amelia’s spine. Her body too had not forgotten.

For a split second, as she broke the kiss, Amelia swore felt Ina’s – her Ina – aura, hanging in the frozen moment time when their lips had met, and the hope that crashed through her body caused her to make a reckless mistake.

"Ina…", she whispered, like a prayer an altar.

Immediately, the grip around her neck tightened, cutting off her oxygen.

The Priestess, her expression now blank as a canvas, slammed her against the wall, moving her fingers from her throat to her jaw, gloved nails digging until the skin broke. Drops of blood pearled on white skin. She tilted the detective’s head forcing her look into her dark eyes, now void of doubt, or tenderness.

"Still with that name!", she exclaimed in exasperation. "This name is lost, as is its beholder."

Amelia’s head spun around from pain and oxygen deprivation. She gasped against the tentacles that slid around her body, crushing her form.

When they lips met again, out of the Priestess’ initiative this time, it was out of dominance. The will to crush Amelia’s spirit. She forced entry in Amelia’s mouth, leaving her gasping for air, and a repressed moan of pleasure stuck in her throat.

Amelia stared back in defiance. "I don’t believe you. I’m not sure you do either."

She failed to repress of shiver when a tentacle slid against her leg, dragging ever so slowly upwards.

The Priestess expression was undecipherable. Her jaw was locked, her eyes focused on Amelia, betraying no emotions. When she released the detective’s chin, letting her hand drag down to her chest as two tentacles removed the raincoat, it was almost out of curiosity or scientific interest. Neutral. Detached. She took note of Amelia holding her breath as her fingers brushed over her breasts and her nipples hardened through the fabric of her shirt.

The Priestess’s body was not the only one betraying its wants and need. Amelia held the Priestess’s merciless gaze, a provocative smirk still plastered on her lips, daring her to continue.

In a swift move, the buttons of her shirt were ripped opened, revealing her skin to the cold eye of the Priestess. The cold, damp air of the cavern made the detective shiver, while her whole body was burning hot. Her muscles tensed again the alien appendices holding her in place. Apart from her right hand that was still gripping the ceremony dress, she was completely paralyzed.

With an amused chucked, the Priestess took a step forward, pressing herself against Amelia, but the tentacles never relaxed.

After an agonizing moment, the Priestess finally seized Amelia’s waist as she took one nipple into her mouth, slowly dragging her tongue over the sensitive bud and Amelia groaned at the contact. With her available hand, she gripped the back of the Priestess neck, pulling at her hair, while pushing against the immovable tentacles. The Priestess bit down harshly as a response, dragging another moan out of the detective.

While the Priestess continued her ministrations on her breasts, the tentacle against her leg continued to move upward, oh so slowly, wrapping around her thigh. Dread and excitement built into Amelia’s core, and she abandoned all appearances of restrain. The combination of the pain still pulsing through her body, the fear at the bottom of her stomach and the desire burning between her legs – it was all too much. All her nerves were on fire, and the room around her was spinning around. She was all sensory stimuli, overwhelming her nervous system. She let her forehead drop against the Priestess shoulder, pulling on the dark hair as a shameless whine of pleasure passed her lips.

The Priestess lips moved up against the column of her bruised throat, and Amelia whole body trembled when she felt a tongue in the crook of her neck followed by nibling of teeth and sucking. Another tentacle appeared against her other legs, forcibly spreading them apart. Her breath caught in her throat when one tendril passed by her underwear, reaching for her sex. She panted against the Priestess shoulder, letting out another moan. A mixture of saliva and blood drooled down her chin. As she closed her eyes, preparing for what was to come, she felt the body against her shiver and the Priestess breath accelerating. It was exhilarating.

When the tentacle entered her, she almost came on the spot. Her nervous system was overloading, and her brain could barely keep up with all the inputs. Relentless, the Priestess’ tentacles were holding her in place, and all she could do was mumble incoherently as pleasure was overriding her cognitive abilities.

Painfully slowly, the tendril slid out of her, slick from her arousal. Expertly, it found her clit, rubbing rhythmically against for a few instants it before entering her again, harder, deeper. She clenched around the eldritch appendage and felt the Priestess tremble against her. With difficulty, as blood was pumping in her head, she managed to lean back, grabbing the Priestess head again to force their lips together. She noticed that the sorceress’ breath was uneven. She bit down on the red lips once more, with less gnarl and more sensuality, successfully dragging a shaky whine out of her partner.

"Inaaaa…", she whimpered, delirious. The Priestess tensed against her, but Amelia didn’t let go of her hold. She repeated the name, panting against her lips like a mantra, like a prayer, like a summoning. "Ina, Ina, Ina…"

The tentacle in her curled abruptly against her walls, hitting the spot that made her eyes roll into her orbits and her toes curl, effectively short-circuiting any coherent thought in her mind. It pumped in and out of her, more and more roughly with ferocity. Ruthless, the tendril thrusted in her again and again and again, bringing her to the edge of oblivion. The Priestess nails suddenly scratched the skin on the detective’s ribs as her lips caught Amelia’s earlobe, and with a final, merciless thrust of the tendril within her, she came undone.

When her orgasm hit her, waves of pleasure erupting from her core through her whole being, her body twitched violently, tensing and clenching around the alien tendrils. Wrapping her arm around the Priestess shoulder for support, she rode out her climax, biting down on the sorceress shoulder to muffle her cries. She continued to spasm for several more seconds before calming down, leaving her breathless and exhausted. The tentacle slid out of her and she mourned the loss of contact.

Despite the fog bogging her mind, she registered that the Priestess’s arms were now embracing her sides, almost like… a hug. Through the sound of her own panting, she heard a whisper.

"Amelia…?".

The sob of happiness that was about to burst out of her throat got interrupted by the tentacles suddenly twitching with unprecedented force and violence. As her body was propelled against the shrine in the center of the circle of blood, Amelia’s head crashed into the stone and her vision went black. Her ears rang as she rolled on the side, trying to get her bearings. The room was spinning, and an acidic bile was menacing to spill out of her mouth. She coughed, feeling the taste of metal and blood against her gums, and blinked furiously to try and focus her gaze.

Looking up, she could see the body of the Priestess – of Ina – overtaken by brutal convulsions. Out of her throat erupted a hundred screams. She clutched her head in agonizing pain. Amelia stumbled forward, lifting an arm to reach her but she was yanked back by a swirl of tentacles. She got back on her feet, and resumed her attempt, but was met with the same fate. Again. Again. Again.

Voices rose, echoes bouncing around the cavern walls.

"One falls, and one shall rise again. A soul for a soul for a soul, and the Kings of the Deep will conquer all."

Powerless, Amelia could only watch as black, oozing liquid, akin to blood, poured out of Ina’s eyes and ears. The tentacles in her back were erratic, swishing around in a chaotic ballet of tendrils, as if trying to detach themselves for her form. The convulsions increased in intensity, matching the rising pitch of the chorus of voices. Purple and green flames spurted out of nowhere, shielding Ina’s from Amelia’s eyes. The detective, screamed, launched her broken body toward the otherworldly pyre.

Flames subsided when Amelia reached her. She threw herself on her knees, cradling the unmoving body against her chest.

"No, no, no, come on, open your eyes, come on…" she implored, frantically checking for a pulse, a sign of breathing, anything. She noticed that all traces of bodily transformation Ina had undergone when she first communed with the Book were gone. No flaps at the top of her hair, no tentacle-like hair, no slightly pointy ear, no eldritch tendrils attached to her back.

Amelia closed her eyes, drooping her forehead against the crook of Ina’s neck, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"No, no, no. Not again."

Absolute silence fell upon the cave, only interrupted by intermittent sobs of desperation.

And eventually, the sound of a ticking watch.

* * *

The rain was pouring. Again. Amelia let out an exhausted sigh. Sometimes the universe just had it out for her, didn’t it? She tightened the lapels of her brand-new coat around her, lowering her head to shield herself from the wind, and hurried across the street, limping on her left leg, the straps of the syringe holster digging into her flesh.

Muffling a pained groan, she finally reached her destination, pulling out keys out of her pocket with trembling hands, both from the cold and for the pain of moving literally any inch of her body. This was going to take a lot of heal. And a lot more to avoid the questions about it…

After a few seconds of struggle to get the key into the keyhole, the door opened, and she was met with a wave of warmth and a sweet smell tinkled her nose. Cookies. Immediately, her body relaxed, and she closed her eyes, reveling in the sensation of peace that came with it.

With difficulty, she shrugged out of her coat, hanged her cap on the hanger and proceeded to unfasten her tie. As she reached the threshold of the living room, the sight of it almost brought tears to her eyes. The dogs were curled up in a corner, Bubba on top of Mikki with a half-chewed toy still in his mouth, while Wellington was lightly snoring on a pile of cushion, being absentmindedly pet by the figure who was reading on the couch. Amelia stayed silent for a minute, appreciating the scenery, imprinting in her memory – how the glow of the lamp reflected in dark ink hair, the smooth mechanical gesture of slender fingers through fur, the rhythmic sound of the rain against the window, the ruffling of the page’s book being turned. Like a painting, come to life.

She leaned against the doorframe, letting a sentimental smile stretch her lips. Immediately, the figure twitched, the hand froze mid-air, and the hair flowed like a curtain blown by a summer breeze as she spun around. Dark purple eyes met blue, and a smile was born, soon followed by an excited greeting.

"Ame! You’re back." Such simple words, said in such a familiar, soft tone. Amelia’s heart tightened in her chest, as it often did in those situations.

"Hey Ina." Amelia savored the sound of the name on her tongue. "I hope the dogs didn’t give you a hard time."

Such banal words, juxtaposed with what she had been through… A wave of exhaustion passed through Amelia, and just for a second she forgot to maintain her composure. Her left leg trembled, and she couldn’t hold back the whine that escaped her lips.

Immediately, Ina was by her side. Amelia shivered when her gloved hands made contact with her cheek – almost recoiling at the touch – before closing her eyes and leaning into them. A flash of mossy stone splattered with blood flashed by her eyes. She chased the memory away, instead focusing on the present moment. The warmth. The rain on the window. Ina’s voice, like velvet in the night.

"Amelia, what happened?", Ina asked, her tone dripping of worry.

Eventually, Amelia gathered herself. She had to be stronger than this. She couldn’t let herself crumble. She couldn’t let Ina know… She straightened her back, lifting her head slightly upwards to look into her lover’s eyes, gently cupping Ina’s hand over her own cheek. She let out a well-crafted laugh that contrasted with the emotions in her eyes.

"Well haha, that was one tough case. A bit bumpier than expected.", she answered with a cocky grin. Lying was so much easier when you had all the time in the world to practice.

Ina’s brow furrowed in concern. Amelia swallowed hard, already bracing herself for a lecture about prioritizing her safety over the investigation. However, Ina merely let out a defeated sigh, bringing her forehead to the detective’s.

"You are impossible. Whatever am I going to do with you…".

A moment passed. Then a another. The two stood there, basking in each other presence, a rare bubble of absolute quietude in their otherwise agitated lives. After minutes that felt like hours to Amelia, Ina moved, first to drop a kiss to the top of her head, then moved to her lips, before dropping her hands and moving back towards the couch. Amelia almost reached out to prevent her from leaving her space, in a desperate need to have the girl against her. Almost.

Ina, oblivious to the internal conflict of the detective, started tiding up the space – papers filled with doodles, pen and erasers were scattered on the coffee table, along with a few magazines, a plaid hazily thrown on the couch, a teapot, a couple of candy wrappers and the tv remote. Casually, she summoned her tentacles to take care of all the objects that once, while one slithered to Wellington to give him scratches between the ears.

Amelia just stared, frozen in place.

"Did you solve it?"

Pulled out of her trance, Amelia blinked, turning her gaze to Ina who was still moving around the room.

"Your case, did you solve it, at least?" Ina gave her an opening, as she always did. An opening to talk more about what she did, her travels, her investigation in time, her struggles… her fears…. Amelia, as she often did, dodged it.

She forced a smile on her lips, and a cheer in her tone. "Not yet unfortunately. That’s a hard one to crack!".

Ina hummed in response, taking the hint, before turning around, her casual tone unwavering. "I made some tea; do you want some?’’.

Finally, Amelia moved from her position at the threshold of the room and made her way to the couch, dropping all her weight on the couch in an ungraceful manner. Wellington remained unfazed, purring to the pets of Ina’s tentacle.

"With pleasure! It’s fucking freezing outside, I can barely feel my toes."

While she gathered her drawings in her hands, a tentacle moved to take a cup, while another grabbed the teapot handle, effectively pouring the hot liquid inside. Amelia lifted her hand, ready to accept the object, when suddenly, something shattered against the floor, and in Amelia’s heart.

A simple, abrupt twitch in the otherworldly appendage send the ceramic mug flying to the floor.

Amelia’s blood froze in her veins.

Ina laughed lightly, scratching her head. "God I’m such an airhead today, I keep being distracted and dropping things. I’m sorry about your mug.", she apologized, immediately bending down to gather the broken shards and wipe the tea off the floor.

Amelia fought back the tears that were stinging her eyes pushing the overwhelming wave if grief away.

She dropped to her knees beside Ina, taking the girl’s hands into her own. The dark-haired girl looked up in an amused confusion, as she tilted her head to the side, her flaps perking up.

"It’s alright. It’s just a mug.", Amelia whispered. This time, she didn’t quite hide the shaking in her voice.

"Okayyyy…." Ina opened her mouth, as if she was going to say something before closing in again. Even if she was used to Amelia strange behavior, especially when she came back from an investigation, she was still never sure how to act.

"I’m not giving up, you know."

Simple words, for such a heavy underlying meaning.

Ina frowned, trying to follow the detective. "On your mug?"

"On my case."

Something in Amelia’s eyes made Ina shiver. The blonde looked like she was carrying a thousand worlds on her shoulder, and Ina would have given anything to help her carry even a tenth of this burden. No human should experience this much grief.

Amelia leaned in, pressing her lips to Ina’s forehead. "I’m never giving up."

Out of the corner of her eyes, Amelia caught another surreptitious twitch of a tentacle and Ina’s eye clouded for a split second.

The thing about madness is that you see it for long enough, in enough people, one starts to recognize the signs too easily.

And what was more of a proof of madness than trying the same thing a thousand times over, expecting a different result.

Yet, Amelia Watson was nothing, if not a stubborn, mad fool.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, english is not my first language so I apologize for any unforgivable grammatical mistake or weird expression.  
> also, first time wirting smut so, yeah, there we are
> 
> iname = tentacle kink; amesame = biting kink, i don't make the rule, i just follow them
> 
> heading to horny jail now, see y'a


End file.
